Bridge
by Thyme In Her Eyes
Summary: Revolving around Tifa and her thoughts throughout her discovery of Cloud in Mideel and the strong feelings of love and insecurity she has to face before she can take her path...


Bridge  
  
Author's Note: More Final Fantasy VII! This story revolves around Tifa when the group arrives in Mideel and finds Cloud in no fit state to return to the group. It's basically centring on her and her thoughts throughout. She's too wonderful a character not to write about, particularly when it's angst. Also, I'm not sure whether the animal Tifa finds is a cat or a dog; I forgot which one it is, so I'm going to go with a cat, ok? This story has some pretty hefty Cloud/Tifa in it, though one-sided as well of hints of Cloud/Aeris and an Aeris/Tifa friendship. Please review! Oh yeah, Tifa, Cloud, Aeris and all of Final Fantasy VII belong to Squaresoft.  
  
----- ----- ----- ----- -----  
  
Bridge  
  
'When Tukanas cut off her head, the old woman collected her own blood in her hands and blew it towards the sun. "My soul enters you too!" she shouted. Since then, anyone who kills receives in his body, without wanting or knowing it, the soul of his victim.' - Eduardo Galeano, Memory of Fire: Genesis  
  
*  
  
Tifa Lockhart was unsure what exactly drove her forward and continued to push her forward, her heart weighing as much as a huge rough boulder, pulling her spirit downwards. Doom and gloom was all around her, in the very air, wafting like a poisonous gas, wailing through her like a tormented spirit, haunting and infecting. The overwhelming melancholy had consumed her in its pitiless blanket, its icy raven silk, smothering her and now it seemed to be a part of her, the depression running through her veins. Now with Meteor looming in the air, its molten red form leering down, taunting her, staining the sky around it the shade of old, dried blood. The fact that at least they were all alive and safe couldn't even console her. Because it wasn't true. Aeris had been killed, so pointlessly it seemed, and now Cloud was missing. She forced down the rush of grief that came with thoughts of her close friend, all the joyful life ripped from her broken body, now resting in death, like many others she had loved. And Cloud. . .  
  
Her mind began entertaining a thousand cruel scenarios, driving the jagged edge of despair a little further into her heart, and twisting the wound a little more each time. What if he wasn't alright? What if she would never find him? Was he hurt? If so, how badly? Was he alive?  
  
She stilled herself, although she still felt her soul tremble and quiver in a cold sweat at the possibility. She couldn't bring herself to think happy thoughts. But she still tried, forcing a bright smile, hopelessly attempting to reassure herself that everything was going to be alright, that Cloud was going to be alright, that all this worrying that just silly. All she needed was a ray of sunshine in the dreary landscape of her mind to change the rain-sodden drizzle inside her into a rainbow, she reminded herself. She had to be optimistic, to think of the glass as half-full. Of course everything would be fine in the end, she argued fiercely to herself - what other option was there?  
  
But it was so difficult. How could she cheer anyone up when her heart felt empty and lost, drowning in an inky, choking sea of confusion, without any cheer to lend? How could she, so morose and alone herself, inspire hope in anyone? And she was struggling in a losing battle, with every passing disappointment, the howling melancholia defeated another piece of her heart's wounded terrain. She felt the uphill struggle, felt her spirit being forced down by a thousand weights, crushing her and moulding her with careless ease and disregard, felt a hundred tiny wounds opening and stubbornly refusing to heal, insisting instead to sicken. It felt like she was being pushed down into mud, sticking sound in slippery dull brown, without life, all her attempts to free herself getting her only more trapped and filthy in her prison of dirt. And every time, her will to fight back shrank away, cowering in the dusty turrets of her mind, letting black misery win a little more.  
  
The lie of being as brave a leader as Cloud was stung deep, certain that she was convincing her comrades even less than she was convincing herself. Her insecurities grasped the crown and sceptre of her mindset and viciously ruled her thinking, driving her into believing she was an incompetent leader, a born follower and her quiet falsehood of her small words of encouragement and hope were as useful as a tree in a raging thunderstorm. Morale was low. How had he done it with such effortless ease, such confidence? She agonised over every decision, wishing she had someone to turn to, to ask for help, to tell her what to do. She didn't believe in herself. All she could do was search and search again for Cloud. She just wanted to see him again, even if all he did was shout at her in fierce fury about how she confused him, even if he hated her for it (what if he did hate her? she couldn't bear it!). She needed to see him, to look into those glacier eyes set on a hardened but boyish face, and tell him how sorry she was. She believed in him. It set her heart afire with a blaze of determination coursing through her as potent as any elixir and she began to resist a little more against the prison of the dark, lonely mist of self- doubt and such crushing sadness and indecision that shrouded her.  
  
But she couldn't give in, the rebelling diminutive flower of hope inside her cried out - a flower planted by her own better side, in good times, by her own dreams and probably nurtured by a good-hearted flower girl. Tifa reflected with a bittersweet smile. She knew that she had to push forward, no matter how hopeless, how much the situation resisted and how much her troubled pulled her down, trying to beat her into a tearful submission. She was stronger than that. She hoped. She wondered how Aeris had done it, how she had been so bright and cheerful, so full of hope, how Aeris was so filled with thoughts of the future when Tifa's thoughts remained buried with the graves in her past. She knew her friend had flaws, as everybody did, but Aeris was so stubbornly insistent on befriending the world; it made the two girls so different. A ghost of a smile began to haunt her almost sallow face, to creep up her sad features. Aeris would likely tell her to keep going, to not give up, that one day she would look back at such a trying time and laugh, that worrying was as useless as solving an arithmetic problem by chewing gum. The jagged sharp gave a cruel, sharp twist, driving deep into a hollowed area, reflected only in a ripple in her wine-red eyes, fading in sadness and darkening in despair. She missed her friend so much.  
  
She tried to remind herself of the good times, the girl talk, the laughter, the shoulder to cry on, the constant friendship, the heartily talks, dressing Cloud up as a girl. But all she saw was her friend fall like a broken doll with a dull thud, the warm spirit torn out, leaving her only a cold body lying in Cloud's arms. She remembered the salty tears in her eyes, scalding her and drowning her in disbelief and grief. The loss. She remembered seeing clod lay her to rest, so gently, wishing to run up to Aeris, showing her feelings for once, and begging her friend to wake up, laugh and tell her it was just a trick. But she was far too familiar with death. Her mother hadn't woken up. Neither had her father. Or anyone she begged to hold on, to come back, and to not abandon her, to stay with someone who needed them. But their blood fled, replaced by furious flames, greedy for their corpses, their spirits running away from her young form, shaken with sobs, as if she carried a deadly disease and was not to be touched. But with Aeris, it was different. Worse.  
  
And with thoughts of Aeris, Cloud followed. The both of them remained together, if only in her mind's fears. When one was at the forefront of her mind tangible but untouchable in some new torment, the other remained in the background, decaying there until the roles eventually changed. She grief continued to mount, the pressure overpowering, threatening to split her skin and ooze out. It continued to kick inside, to dig a little deeper, to hollow her a little further, to make the world a cold, stoic realm, no matter how much she tried to keep the face of hope on. With Aeris, she struggled with optimism but found a wounding strength and sharp stab of loss anew but with thoughts of Cloud, the mask threatened to slip completely, fall to the ground and shatter into a thousand pale porcelain pieces, each jagged end razor sharp. It was so much worse with him, as was trying to keep the overpowering feelings she had for him, her desperate need to find him, safely concealed from the others.  
  
Of course, she seemed to be failing miserably. To attempt to tackle and overpower her feelings for the young mercenary - so lost and alone as herself - was impossible. The tempest of conflicted and haunting emotions was like a thundering tempest, blazing and roaring in her sullen spirit, and defeated her with ease. However, despite all the grief she suffered was the guilt of knowing that she was causing him worse grief, that whatever was happening to him was her fault for abandoning him, taking away her support from him then he needed her the most. But still, it was thoughts of him that drove her on. Guilt, yes, but something else. Something purer. Enduring love was her driving force, which pushed her on and pitted her against the ferociousness of her own dark feelings, as terrible to contend with as monstrous gladiators. He needed her. And she needed him. She felt ashamed of herself for relying on him so much, for not knowing what to do without him. Barret's words haunted her like a rough chant of doom, echoing a cruel truth she half-believed.  
  
She could barely name her feelings for the young mercenary, both and cold- hearted man and a lost little boy, all she could do was feel herself swept along in their foreign depths. They thought they were best friends. She remembered every detail of their stolen moment by the well, the shimmering stars shining down like sleeping diamonds woven into an endless gown of obsidian-black and sapphire-blue silk. She recalled the strong scent of Mako that always seemed present, pungent but comfortable, how it left a bitter, metallic taste in her mouth afterwards, how she would twist her features into a childish scowl whenever she noticed. She remembered the old wood, the strong mahogany wafting through her nose, caressing her nasal senses, the silence inside the well; hollow emptiness echoing off more hollow emptiness. And Cloud. His face silently scrutinising her, looking for a reaction, when he though she wasn't looking, his eyes desperate. He was cute. They had said so much that night, he had so many dreams, so many horizons to travel to, so much to see with those seeking, curious eyes. And he promised to rescue her, whenever she was in a bind.  
  
She sighed deeply with nostalgia attacking her senses. The world had seemed so simple back then. It seemed a selfish request, especially to from her to him. . .but why? Weren't they best friends? Then why couldn't she remember anything else? Why didn't they share any other memories? Was it like Sephiroth told her? Was Cloud built from her memories? Why couldn't she remember? Why was everything so muddled?  
  
She felt self-doubt leap upon her again and tear into her spirit with cruel claws. Her head screeched from all the questions. Again and again, she dwelled on them. Uncertainty was her world. So much of their past together had been flung away from her troubled mind, lost in secluded labyrinths in the back of her mind. She knew he wasn't at Nibelheim when he claimed to be - a young member of SOLDIER named Zack that bore a striking resemblance to him, yes, but no Cloud. But then why - when she knew Cloud was never there - did she remember him, after she had fallen victim to Sephiroth, so burnt by her own rage and grief that she forgot what she was dealing? Why did she remember him from there, holding her so tightly?  
  
She recalled the grey fall of rain that cloaked her when she saw Cloud again, so confused and different. And he knew. Not only did he know all about what had happened, but claimed he was there and witnessed the death of all he knew as home, claiming to have felt the betrayal more keenly because Sephiroth had been a close friend. It made no sense to her. But she still sensed something in him, a deep current of understanding that shook her like an electrical storm. She was concerned, about so many things that made no sense, things she needed to understand, psychological equations that seemed to cry out to her for help. He was an enigma, a mystery and she longed to solve the puzzle of who he was, and why he figured so highly in her past. Of course, it only led to another question, resounding; why did she feel so strongly for him? She wanted to keep him close, to figure their twisted past out, to attempt to discern her emotions towards but also she was horrified by what could happen if she told him. Something terrible might happen if she told him the truth, she felt it in her bones, aching, wailing, chilling them to sinews, muscles and limbs made from blocks of scared ice. The secret was kept locked in the secretive depths of her heart, the key cast to regions unknown within her mind, hoping to never be found, to never need to be used.  
  
She felt like hitting herself. Cloud was her friend! She knew! Somehow she knew! She had to know! Or at least if she didn't know for certain, she did have to believe. She had to rely on faith to carry her struggling form into the realm of the truth. She stilled herself and crawled out of the deep ditch of insecurity and asserted one vital belief: she believed in Cloud. Many things made no sense, but she cared for Cloud so much it hurt, and she knew he cared for her sincerely, even if it wasn't in the way she wanted. He had never let her down, always honouring his promise to her and looking out for her, even without need. She recalled their talks; far from intimate but despite his initial frosty demeanour there was genuine affection behind his words. She knew it, even if she was unsure what it meant, how she felt about him, the answer to the riddle he was. So many things confused her, made so little sense, but it was far better to trust Cloud, however uncertain and unstable he was than to put Sephiroth's word above that of her childhood friend's.  
  
Guilt seeped in, like a poison. If only she had known that then. If only she hadn't let the questions get the better of her! Why did she look at him that way, with such disbelief and distrust? Why had she believed what Sephiroth, of all people, told her? He had always been there for her, someone she could rely on though he was hardly capable of telling her that everything was going to be alright. He had needed her so much then, she remembered, tortured by the finality of the image of his tearful eyes, terrified of what Sephiroth had said, needing her reassurance. But she had failed him, losing herself, casting herself adrift in the choppy waters of her own certainty, insisting she just needed time to think. He needed her and she abandoned him when he needed her support more than anything. She felt like a terrible excuse for a friend.  
  
She hated herself. She had no right to do that, she shrieked at herself, deeply regretting never being straight and blunt with him about everything, so quiet because of her owns fears. Now she realised how much he needed to know the truth. But, in selfishness, she had hidden it from him, she reflected bitterly. And whatever terrible thing had fallen onto his less- than-capable shoulders was her fault. If he had died, she would be his murderer. Yet she hoped and dreaded the possibility that if he was dead, he would haunt her, a tormenting ghost, whispering on sharp shadows, for the rest of her days. It was both a terrible thought and a thought of some surreal comfort.  
  
It was virtually impossible to distract herself with the light-hearted, hopeful possibility that perhaps nothing had happened to him at all, that perhaps he was safe and a little worse-for-wear but nonetheless fine. She felt a spider stir within her, an emotion called dread. Something was terribly wrong. She could feel scream down her, through her, manifesting itself in rare trembles and quivers of her icy hand.  
  
She tried to push away the tide of self-loathing that came with realising how wrong she had been. However, she clung onto the hope that once she found him everything would be alright again, as long as he was there. If he was near her she would feel safe and secure, as if everything would be fine in the end, ever since she had felt her dying body, soaking him with the crimson flow of her life, in his arms, being moved out of harm's way. She remembered the ice of hatred in his eyes thaw and reflect a tortured anguish that had burnt in her heart so destructively only moments ago. She knew he understood. She remembered the serene peace that filled her, a supreme gentleness at lying there, remembering his promise and how he had returned to save her like the knight in shining armour, glimmering with strength and pride, she had always secretly dreamed. She remembered how she had felt a sleepy numbness, kind and heady as she felt her life drift away, barely aware of the thick blood bursting in rivers so red it was a congealed black from the angry wound across her chest, her thoughts full of him. It was unreal, like a waking dream. She could never forget him since then.  
  
She knew now; no matter what the truth was, he would always be her childhood friend. She had to find him, because she needed him, needed to know he was safe, to tell him everything she knew, to be honest for once. And to apologise. She needed to see him, if only to tell him how sorry she was for ever having hurt him, that it was the last thing she wanted, that she trusted him with her life and believed in him. She would apologise and care for him as he deserved and never leave him again. Their friendship was real. The man she loved was real.  
  
Love. . .so that was it. It hardly surprised her, to grasp the word so quickly and out of nowhere. In her heart of hearts, she had known for so long a time, as had everybody except Cloud, she rightly guessed. This was more than fascination, a great respect, childhood memories of her last link to the happiest days of her life, understanding, and a need for closeness and security mingled with a childish crush. She loved him. She couldn't exist without him; she felt like a lost little girl, all alone, unsure what to do if he wasn't there. Though she felt a hot rush of shame at knowing her own dependence on him, how he ruled her happiness and well-being. She felt wrong over not knowing what to do without him but loving him gave her strength - he gave her strength, thoughts of Cloud kept her strong and persistent, albeit damaged. She loved him, clone or not, with real memories or false memories. Nothing else mattered now. She loved Cloud.  
  
However, this romantic revelation didn't turn the world into a place of fireworks and rainbows and sunshine, it only ignited more desperation, another secret she knew she had to divulge. She wasn't sure who he was, but she loved him both because of and in spite of that terrible mystery. To ask for his love was silly, she admitted with heartbreaking loss. She didn't deserve his love. Certainly not above his forgiveness. All she wanted was penance, to make it all up to him. She would find him. She was searching for him, scouring across the world and her own mind and memory. She would find him.  
  
She caught a glimpse of herself in the window of the Highwind. She looked like a shadow of herself, empty, with barely a whisper of the promise of life. She looked like a peeled snail, longing for her comforting shell back. True, with a bountiful form of toughened muscles accentuating her lithe body and generous bosom, she was on the outside everything that made a woman. But on the inside, she was in many ways still the girl with her promises and the teenager, disillusioned and mourning in hollow fury drowning her heart. It showed in her face, surmounted by impossibly long waves of chocolate-brown hair, shining through in her soft, rounded, thin features, her shy rosy-lipped smile and pale skin. They seemed to be a whisper of her life, reflecting each one of her losses, now screeching through on her now sallow skin and constant haunting despair. Her brow narrowed. She could begin to see what she would look like when she was old. If she ever reached old age. If any of them reached old age and escaped Sephiroth's master plan.  
  
And then she gazed into the faded and stained reflection of her large tired eyes, gleaming a wine-red, full of sorrow. The sparkle was long gone, burnt away by the reflection of the consuming, roaring flames that mauled her hometown and scorched away what was left of her childlike innocence. What had once been dazzling rubies had now faded down to quiet, lonely garnets, shining with sadness on skin of ivory, caressed by long dark lashes. More than anything, her deep sad eyes betrayed her.  
  
Those same eyes fixed on a small town and her brow furrowed. With a motion of her arm, she indicated to the pilot to land beside. Mideel. Cid and Barret looked on expectantly. They understood. And once she found him. . . . She had been holding her thoughts in her heart for long a time, and it left her feeling so lonely. Well no more. Still, his safety was far above her own silly feelings, it was more important that he was alive than if he returned her emotions. Relying on good faith, she convinced herself that Cloud would be in this village; that she would find him at last. A bittersweet hope tugged sharply inside her. Maybe, just maybe. . .  
  
*  
  
It was a senile village, but almost loveably comfortable and familiar with the same instinctive friendliness and sense of community that had given Nibelheim its sentimental place in her heart. And the people seemed so human in a way she wasn't, still forward-looking and almost without a care in the world. They never spoke of Shinra and sometimes spoke of Meteor but only with a resigned awe or simple bemusement. If she could still laugh, she would have. But still, she liked it there. Unfortunately, as she had wandered, Barret and Cid in tow, her hopeful search had so far proved fruitless as most of their previous searches had, uncovering villages and materia but no blond young man with intense icy eyes, enhanced by Mako, icicle-like strands of hair stabbing any roving spirits at his side and a sincerely good heart. Cloud was well and truly lost.  
  
She was snapped back into reality by a gentle mewing by her feet. Surprised, she looked downward and saw a scruffy looking cat affectionately purring by her long legs. A sad smile gently graced her face as she looked at the large glittering cat-eyes, glimmering a metallic green, seeing right through her. It understood.  
  
"What's the matter? Are you all alone?" she asked gently, a poignant twist to her voice, a voice as quiet and tender as a mountain stream, knowing she understood the feeling all too well.  
  
It mewed again pitifully. With a short laugh, tainted with an absent feeling of loneliness she knelt down beside the small creature and took it in her strong gloved arms, stroking the tousled fur lovingly. She smiled affectionately, that same sad smile that had a sincerity that made it far more haunting than all her false bright smiles that stabbed her on the inside.  
  
She continued to talk in empathy to the lost animal, feeling a strange relief to be able to talk, a new comfort "You got lost didn't you? Separated from someone you love? Silly thing. . ." she said with a bitter laugh, the irony of her own words not lost on her.  
  
She continued to stroke it, trying to force back hovering tears that threatened to escape the prison of her eyes. Barret and Cid exchanged a look of sympathy and allowed her a moment, both of them admiring her more for the grief she had to put up with and how she bravely persevered, their firm jaws set high in respect. She continued her tender ministrations on the helpless creature, as if by having a deeply ironic heart-to-heart with the bedraggled cat and insisting on lulling its sorrows away, she could perhaps soothe her own aches and ease the numbing loneliness she felt. She decided to remain, to linger a little and the little cat soothingly, just until she felt a little better.  
  
Her sharp ear picked up the broken dialogue of two figures, their voices strained with the beginnings of age, their words shattering the agonising silence in which she was vulnerable to her own thoughts ". . .guess it's been about a week now since he washed up here on the shore. . . Poor pokey- headed young thing. . ."  
  
Her heart skipped a beat, just as the cat coyly leapt out of her lap, forsaking her for the shadows for the sunny street. Her head turned sharply to face the two figures across the street, to listen again, just to be sure. Her stomach began to tie up in knots and entertain butterflies, a lump gathered in her throat, her heart shook into vibrant life, not daring to hope that it could be him. It couldn't be.  
  
"It was really sad. . .but weird. He was holding this really long sword." The first spoke again, careless gossip drowning Tifa's gentle heart in deep throes of hope.  
  
The second concurred sadly, the meaning behind their words lost on the young woman who began to feel joy dance in her spirit stronger than she could ever have imagined. "I dunno. The whole thing feels unlucky to me. But the amazing thing was those weird blue eyes. . ."  
  
"What!?" she cried out in disbelief. Her legs seemed to move of their own accord, a genuine smile of happiness lighting her face. "Wait a minute!! What did you just say!?"  
  
She ran over to them, feeling only hope and joy rush over her and consume her in wondrous waves. It had to be him! The strangers looked at her, frowning in puzzlement of the young lady who now looked as if something wonderful had happened that was so amazing she dared not believe it was true.  
  
"Excuse me! That young person you were just talking about. . ." she said, the concern and wonder almost rendering her speechless. But she was happy.  
  
"Yeah. . .a villager found him a little ways down the coast... It was about a week ago I think." The first said with slight uncertainty.  
  
"Yeah, poor kid. . ." the second chimed in, trying to sound helpful "He must've drifted from somewhere pretty far away. . ."  
  
She needed no more explanation. Her heart soared. It was him!  
  
"Cloud! It must be! It's Cloud!" she exclaimed, a rush of feeling nearly knocking her down to her knees, she felt tears press again, but this time tears of happiness. Relief flooded her senses, followed by marvellous light- hearted happiness. He was here! Cloud was here! Her heart sang and danced. The whole world rolled away and everything seemed almost magical. Great serenity conquered her sorrows, obliterating them in the face of a chance of reconciling with a lost friend, waves of love painting the world back into a divine portrait of innocence. Everything was going to be alright, as long as Cloud was alright. As long as he was safe, she didn't need to worry; she didn't need to care about anything else. He was her world.  
  
"You sure!?" Barret barked, his tone of voice sounding angrily sceptical but betraying his own concerns for the young man.  
  
"Heh, good job, Tifa." Cid said, taking a triumphant puff of his cigarette, feeling a strange pride for her.  
  
"So where is he? Is he safe!? Where is he now?" Tifa asked desperately. She needed to see him! She had so much she needed to say!  
  
One pointed a further along the a solitary building at the end of the town, bristled with the anxiety of nervous sympathy "Yeah. . .up ahead here. . . At the, uh, clinic. . ." he replied awkwardly.  
  
"He's alive! Cloud. . .Cloud's alive! Cloud!" she was too overjoyed to thank the strangers or pay proper attention to their words, her heart overflowing with anticipation of seeing him again. She felt on fire, as though she was glowing warmly from within but a bright feeling, fierce love seizing her. The happiness of that one moment outweighed all her previous sorrows, momentarily lifting them off her heart leaving her feeling as though she could fly. All she wanted to do was see him. He was alive! She dashed to the clinic in a blur of warm maroon and dark flowing hair, eyes speaking volumes, calling out to him and ignoring the alarmed sounds Barret was making behind her. She ran with reckless abandon, wild and carefree, wanting only to see Cloud to tell him so many things, to bridge him back to who he was, whoever that might be. She was in a wonderful world of her own, everything seeming so beautiful and hopeful. Hope was everywhere. It seemed to good to be true, as if out of a dream. Everything was wonderful. Because Cloud was alive and safe.  
  
"Cloud!?" her sparkling voice rang through the clinic.  
  
A doctor, spindly and skinny in body, the expression on his face somewhere between the half-witted amusement of the young and the professional regret of the older, turned to face her. He gazed at her with a bemused look. "Here now. The way you're running around here, you'd think Meteor fell or something." He said, the tone of his nasal voice jocular.  
  
Tifa made a brief effort to try and clam her dancing heart, to try and sound within her right mind, despite the terrible distraction of the heady feeling that became her world and the suddenly desperate need to see Cloud. "I'm sorry, but I heard that a friend of mine was being taken care of here. . ." she said in her quiet, neutral voice, though unable to stop beaming. Just the thought of seeing him again. . .  
  
The doctor crossed his arms and bit his lip, puzzled "A friend. . .?" He nodded, trying to think about who she could possibly be talking about. Then he realised with surprise. "Oh yeah! That young fellow!?" he exclaimed, his voice almost childishly high before taking on a more forced, professional tone, dispassionate in the extreme. He had hard news to break. "Don't worry. Your friend is next door. But I'm afraid his condition is. . ."  
  
His words faded into the background. All Tifa needed to know was that Cloud was indeed there. Without any thought to what she would do or say but simply allowing herself to experience the moment her warm spirit flourished. Her heart was so obviously worn on her sleeve as she prepared to greet her dearest friend, it was poignantly painful for the doctor to watch, knowing what would happen as she abruptly brushed past him, seeing only Cloud. Everything would make sense now. All she had to do was tell him how sorry she was and how much she trusted him and cared for him and knew him to be her friend, no matter what Sephiroth had told them. She still believed. She just needed to tell him that, to let him know how much their memories meant to her. How much he meant to her. She turned towards the adjunct room, separate only by a thin lilac standard hospital curtain. Her soul danced in happy delirium and hope and love burned hard and fast within her, still warm and wonderful with the initial relived shock that Cloud was safe and with her now. It was really happening!  
  
"Here?" she said brightly. She nodded to herself, her dark brown locks sweeping up and falling down with the brisk movement of her head. "Over here." She knew he was there, she could sense it.  
  
Nervousness about keeping her feelings locked away inside her, about not revealing too much of her regard for him and all the anxiety of secrets were flung out the window with her arrival. She wanted to show him how happy knowing he was safe made her. What would she say to him? What would he say to her? How would he react to such a visit? Would he have expected her? Would he be pleased to see her? She forced back an almost childish grin as the excited thought swept through her, like a sublime drug's heady effects, her body feeling weightless, as if winged, all heavy despair slain by Cloud. Her mind was full of incredible, enduring joy. She didn't care what happened between them now - as long as he was safe, as long as she could know he was safe and near her, as long as she could hear his voice, have him speak to her, for him to call her his friend again. . .  
  
Without any thought on presentation she pulled back the curtain and stepped through, drowning in a warm silver sea of needs fulfilled. Everything was alright as long as he was near her. "Cloud. . .!?" she asked excitedly with a child's open-hearted innocence, shining through her eyes, her smile lighting up her face, giddy with life-filled joy, brimming with incredible love.  
  
She was met by a nurse, mousy in appearance, a kind but distracted look on her face. She gave Tifa a brisk, polite smile, before turning her attention back to her patient. Cloud. It was him! Definitely! She was ecstatic, in heaven. As long as he was alright.  
  
"Cloud. . .!?" Tifa's voice rang through the room, still too overjoyed to believe what was happening to her. She heard Barret and Cid rush in but paid no attention as the nurse stepped back to reveal Cloud, sitting limply. But Tifa saw only him. Only Cloud. Cloud alive! Cloud safe! Cloud with her! She gave out an overjoyed sob and rushed towards him, all self- consciousness gone. She was certain she heard the song of chimes on the air. Everything felt whimsical and magical. She had found her Cloud at last, after so much worry. She felt lost for words for a moment, whilst a thousand battled over which ones were to be voiced first.  
  
"Oh. . .Cloud! I'm so glad you're safe!" she cried out, her heart reaching out to him in deep love with her voice, fluidic and musical in the depth of feeling she had evoked from within her.  
  
He sat, as still and limp as a corpse, crouching back like a tortoise receding back into the safety of his shell. Slowly, he struggled to lift his head, Tifa's expectant gaze about to meet his own. Then his head dropped again. Tifa gasped in shock and confusion as his body trembled a little, his head continuing to bob, in a soullessly automatic fashion, confused and lost. Her blood turned to ice as she noticed that he was sitting in a wheelchair, his strong young body doubled over limply in broken defeat, his skin sallow and unhealthy, a drip attached to his arm, his mouth hanging partially open, a small pocket of glistening clear saliva gathering in the right corner. The nurse abruptly wiped it away, embarrassed for him, but giving a sympathetic smile, her clear eyes revealing traces of silent sadness, suggesting that this had to be done often. There was no recognition in his eyes as he beheld her, not seeming to see her at all, ignoring her open eyes, filled with such care for him, flinching with the wound of the shock and fear of seeing him in such a state. She stared in horror, her face ashen and crestfallen.  
  
"Uh. . .aaa. . .?" came a low, choked gurgling from deep within his throat. Couldn't he even speak?  
  
"Wh-what's wrong. . .Cloud. . .?" she choked out, her voice a hoarse whisper scraping against her throat, not wanting an answer. It couldn't be. Numb horror took a cold hold of her soul, claws digging in.  
  
"A. . .Gurk. . .?" was his response. He hadn't seen her, hadn't heard her.  
  
She shook her head, refusing to believe it was him; that any of this was happening. The world crashed around her, dragging her down. "Cloud! What happened to you!?" she cried out desperately, her eyes wide in fearful pleading. There was no response.  
  
Silence overtook her, a numbness barely containing her in a quiet state of shock. She wanted to scream, sob furiously until there were no more tears, beg him to become himself again, apologise profusely for everything, hold him tight in a close embrace, cry out in pain, say that everything was alright now because she believed, accuse him of doing this to hurt her, to hit him and keep on hitting him to force him to wake up until her grieving energy was gone, to plead with him to come back to her, to tell him how much she loved him. Her head was piercing with agony as a thousand different emotions raged inside her whilst she remained inert and trembling, knees buckling but somehow still supporting her body on her feet. It was too much.  
  
Tifa could not believe what she saw. This couldn't possibly be happening said the howling in her mind. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. His proud body, exhausted, broken and limp, utterly tarnished, reduced to depending on a drip to stay alive, confined to a wheelchair. His eyes were dull and empty, the intense colour seeming to fade away, ruined, as she watched. He looked haunted, confused. . .dead. where was that spark of life? They seemed barely animated, the only indication of life being the freezing glow of pitiless Mako and still those eyes she had come to love so much seemed like a muddy puddle holding some trapped sleet and slush within its fortress. There was no trace of the person she knew in that hollow gaze, no evidence that there had ever been a soul behind those empty eyes. His face seemed deathly pale, ivory and grey, wicked veins streaking across his sharp features, his smooth young skin now lined and wretched. He was expressionless, motionless apart from the slow bob of his head, moving like a child's toy, rising slowly and dropping sharply, pressuring his neck and the occasional twitch and a movement in a finger or two. His faded lifeless eyes met hers but to her dismay, he didn't see her as if a strange mist concealed her utterly. He seemed so far away. . . She couldn't believe. She hadn't wanted this, she hadn't wanted to find him like this. He couldn't be like this! This wasn't him, it couldn't be! Her mind screamed in terror. He had to see her! He had to give some indication that he knew she was there! Did he know she was there? Could he hear her voice, how much she longed to see him? What was happening? Why wouldn't he see her?  
  
"Mako poisoning. . . Quite an advanced case. . . It appears this young man's been exposed to a high level of Mako energy for a protracted period of time. He probably has no idea who or where he is now. . . Poor fellow, his voice doesn't even work. He is literally miles away from us. Some place far away where no one's ever been. . .all alone. . ." The doctor, speaking through his nose, cut across her memories, his words hardly affecting her, her ears hardly hearing, her mind too exhausted to comprehend.  
  
"Doctor!" she cried out in anguish, unable to believe it, clinging to frail denial that was about to fail her painfully.  
  
His heavy words hurt to hear, seeming without mercy or pity. Her heart wanted to rebel in fury and scream that this sort of thing didn't happen to Cloud. But she couldn't. Despair defeated happiness, optimism and hope. She let out a low moan of grief like that of a dying animal, gouged and slowly bleeding, the reality finally reaching her in a blazing, blinding dawning on her mind. She shut her eyes hard, choking back on tears, her body racked with silent sobs. At that, the doctor, nurse and her dear friends left, sadness haunting all of them, leaving her with this dreadful spectre of her childhood friend. She was alone.  
  
She fell to her knees, forced down by a terrible weight, invisible but tangible and crawled over to her paralysed and comatose friend, raw tears spilling out. She could do nothing more to hold them back and cried bitterly, her low sobs contained at the back of her throat. Once she started, there was no stopping, and she cried pitifully, heartbreakingly as she truly realised he was gone, his bridges to her world burnt, only pitiful ashes remaining, only to be ravaged by a brutal wind. Her throat seemed so dry it burnt and ached, the hollow agony ripping her body apart, feeling nothing but hot tears. She only wanted him to say something, to hear her, to hear all she needed to say, for there to be some way for her to make this right. But whilst she reached out so desperately for anything, nothing met her frantic hand, everything abandoning her, dissolving under her touch.  
  
Whoever this broken stranger was, the life stolen from his body, it wasn't Cloud. She refused to believe it could be. It had to be a mistake. The breath was stolen from her throat, words scattered to the winds. He was a shadow of Cloud, nothing like the man she knew. She mouthed his name, silently pleading with him to awaken from this state, this parody of the great man she knew, her hero. There was no change. The world rolled back into harsh reality after the delirium and euphoria of finding him, then shattered completely, leaving nothing but cruel broken shards in its wake. Now denial was vanquished utterly, leaving her alone with a cold truth of what had happened to him, that Cloud had truly left her.  
  
Her mind reeled in horror, a terrible nausea feeding on her destroyed hopes as the overwhelming joy that had possessed her burnt away on a funeral pyre that took away most of her heart. Was it her fault? Had she done this terrible thing to him? She flung the blame upon her own trembling shoulders, shaking with pain of a wound for which there is no balm. It hurt to think. It was cruel, unfair. Everything hurt. He seemed to have claimed a soul, to have forced his way inside, his sorrows becoming her own. She trembled from tears. She wanted to vomit. Guilt hounded her; she had done this to Cloud, he was the victim she had murdered, in the most cruel way possible. This was her punishment. Her punishment for everything. And now he would never hear her apologies and pleads for his forgiveness or ever be able accept. She wanted to wake up and for everything to be just a terrible dream and for Cloud to reassure her, to tell her he was fine, that everything was fine, that he was here for her now.  
  
She spoke, her compassionate voice raw and pained, shuddering with the occasional deep sob as she felt all the life and feeling drained from her, her eyes fixed upon his, soul-searching. "Why? What do you want me to do? Please, Cloud. . .talk to me. . .tell me you see me, that you can hear me. . . Tell me, please. . ."  
  
There was no response apart from his absent twitching, broken and alone. Tifa bit her lip sharply, drawing a thin trickle of blood as she tried to choke down more tears. She wanted to be brave and strong for him, to be bright and full of hope, like Aeris always was, Aeris who could always reach him. More than that, she wanted to be herself, for him to reach back and come back to her. She could keep no pretence of being strong as she began to plead in desperate, passionate anguish and crushing grief as she poured out her heart, her beaten feelings dominating her.  
  
She could hear the others talking outside in concern and regret. She could hear Barret make a frustrated sound, raising his voice several confused octaves and Cid trying to make sense of it all. Though she detested herself for it, she couldn't seem to care. She didn't seem to have such feeling in her any more, struck away by one loss too many. All she cared about was Cloud now.  
  
Her voice quavered as she spoke, her voice barely a ghost of a whisper "I came this far believing in the memories we have together. . ." she tried to reach out, to tell him. But it was too much, she felt helpless as she knew there was no finding him now, reducing her to uncontrollable sobbing.  
  
"This isn't happening! This is too cruel. . ." she spoke with truth as she trailed off, the only audible sound began her pained moans and constant tears, flowing so freely.  
  
"Oh, Cloud! I. . ." there was nothing more to say, nothing more to do. All she could do was break down, as Cloud had that terrible black day - seeming a forever ago - in the City of the Ancients.  
  
It had been so long since she last cried. As a child, she had cried at all the appropriate occasions but after the loss of all she held dear, torn away from her, she though her eyes had dried forever, that there could be no crueller blow to her heart. Though she had fallen in love with Cloud, she had never expected to cry for him so much, never anticipated what she would suffer. She thought she had her feelings under lock and key, had thought that she was ready to face Sephiroth, that he could bring her no more hurt. But she was wrong - she hadn't been ready. He had struck down Aeris, and ripped away Tifa's constant friend and thrown her into a new world without Aeris' bright laughter, the mischievous spark in her eyes, her warm, humane smile, her playful comments, her manner; living so much for a brighter tomorrow. She remembered how terrible it was to comprehend that her friend was snatched away, that Sephiroth had taken away another treasured loved one, recalled the horrible taste of mingled tears reaching her dry lips as she stumbled away from that fateful shrine. She had lost so much that day. She had lost a dear friend and someone who seemed to give her so much life, so much love and friendship. Her heart still ached.  
  
She knew Cloud had been falling in love with Aeris. It was piercingly obvious. She could see it in every look her threw, the way he talked about her. . . But, unlike what some thought, she harboured no bitterness or resentment. She had stood back, allowing whatever would happen between the two to happen, caring too much for either to intervene or jeopardise what she had, despite Aeris knowing her feelings for Cloud and heartily encouraging her to pursue their course and tell him how she felt. Aeris had been such a good friend. Anyone who hadn't known her would have likely thought that she had saw Aeris' death as an opportunity with Cloud.  
  
Only now the thought struck her. At the time, she had been so consumed in her own mournful loss to care about anything. Romance couldn't have been further from her haunted mind. Then she had consumed herself in trying to reach Cloud, to try and allow him to express his grief, to offer some comfort and understanding from someone who felt Aeris' loss keenly. But he had been so distant, so much colder, so sunk in solitude all those lonely days on Gaia's Cliff. He seemed traumatised by the entire experience, far more so than from the destruction of his hometown. She understood - when she with Aeris, she found cheerfulness infectious and never felt alone. Now it felt as if a part of her had been killed also. And all that was left had been obliterated by what had happened to Cloud.  
  
With eyes shut painfully tight and hard and fists clenched, she prayed hopelessly to whatever powers that be to change everything, to bring them back to her. She didn't care if they got together, as long they were alive, healthy, happy and near her. The idea of regarding Aeris' death as a chance with Cloud had sincerely only occurred to her a moment in a heartbroken moment of bitter reflection on her losses. Frankly, she found it sickening and felt ashamed that some that didn't know her quite so well might have guessed her thoughts so far from the melancholy truth. She would have gladly exchanged her fairytale happiness for their lives any day. Though the reflection distracted her from her torment over Cloud, the terrible anguish lingered and pursued her.  
  
But now Cloud was gone, as was her will to stand up or draw breath. She felt helpless, as if the life, feeling and strength and been drained completely. She simply wanted to be left alone, for no-one to go near her. She wanted to be left on the clinic floor to cry. She felt a crushing feeling of despair posses her. There was no hope in her heart. Meteor loomed in threat to everything, Aeris was dead and now Cloud. . . She felt like letting Meteor hit, like letting everything end. There seemed to be no point in going on, now that everything already seemed lost and taken. What good could they possibly not do now? What use was saving a world Cloud wouldn't be in? What was the point in fighting on? She knew in heart she couldn't do it; she couldn't run on a fool's errand to try and avert the inevitable - and now without Cloud it did seem like doom was well and truly at their doorstep. Despair struck. Why bother? There was no point. She wasn't strong enough to carry on.  
  
What would Cloud think of that? Would he be ashamed of her? What would Aeris say? She allowed herself to give a fond but bittersweet smile - Aeris would likely tell her not to give up, especially when Cloud needed her. She would tell her to be strong and say something to bring a laughing smile on her pallid face. She would remind her never to give up hope and that one day she'd look back on all these hard times and laugh. That tomorrow, things wouldn't seem half as bad. And joke playfully about Cloud. She would say the last part in the same bubbly way with a glowing laugh. And Tifa would laugh quietly too, despite herself. Aeris would listen to her when she poured out all her problems, everything that troubled her now. And what would she say. . .? She would probably tell her to be strong and follow her heart. And that they both knew where her heart was leading, and who it was leading towards. Yes, she had to stay with Cloud, with her world, the person she loved. She had to care for him.  
  
Still, she felt a cold stab of guilt - would everyone else hate her? Would they understand? Would they think she was a coward? Would they think she had betrayed them? Would they think she had abandoned them as soon as the going got tough? She recalled the distant words of Barret - 'What happened to the tough girl I used to know?'. She'd grown up a little. She had done this to Cloud and she had to make it up to him, whether it counted or not, she couldn't continue to lie to herself and others as she always had.  
  
She couldn't bring herself to leave him and fight for a cause she ceased believing in, ceased caring about - she hadn't the ability to be of any use now. Her heart would always be here with him. She wanted to spend the rest of her life caring for him, however short it may be. She refused to leave him. She had to stay, whether it was from strength pushing her to remain true to herself and her feelings or from weakness - fear of fighting, having already resigned herself to the worst, not having the willpower to fight on a lost cause. She didn't care. She knew what she would do.  
  
She stood up, tall and proud and brushed a loose strand of spiked icy-blond hair away from Cloud's feverish face and looked longingly at him, the moment drawn out forever. She placed a chaste kiss on his high forehead and looked on the verge of revealing a most secret truth to him. . . No, she reasoned. She wanted him awake first. She would tell him then. She would look after him even if it was in vain; she would bridge him back to her world, to her heart. She would be his bridge, not his murderer. She would show him how she felt through this. She was strong enough, she thought as she emerged victorious from a battle with everything she feared in her nature, composed through sadness, her soft voice as clear as a bell. Her words rang out to her friends.  
  
"I'm sorry I had you all worried. And I have something I want to tell you all. . . I don't care about anything else, only Cloud. . . I. . .want to be by his side. . . I'm sorry, everyone. . . At a time like this. . ."  
  
Her friends left her with their love and she wished them all the best, turning back to Cloud as she always had. It was time to reverse their promise: he was in a bind, and she would rescue him. She smiled sadly, with determination. She would do all she could. Whatever had been wrong along the threads of the past, she would right. He would be her own salvation. She gave his quivering lost form a brave smile, full of gentle love, shining through, though his sapphire eyes missed it. She would do everything for him, she resolved with strength she thought she never had.  
  
Her eyes were dry now.  
  
*THE END* 


End file.
